


Noisemaze

by AltraViolet



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Body Horror, Death, Gen, Horror, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltraViolet/pseuds/AltraViolet
Summary: The Spiral has unwittingly been summoned by a dying Tarantulas. His work is exquisite and The Spiral finally has an entryway to a powerful system of portals...
Comments: 17
Kudos: 14





	Noisemaze

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha, the crossover no one asked for. But, here it is. Please note, as of right now, I've only heard seasons 1 – 4 of The Magnus Archives, and I don't interact with the TMA fandom much outside of seeing some fanart. I hope you'll like this interpretation of The Spiral- hopefully it doesn't counter too much of canon/widely accepted headcanon. 
> 
> **To TMA-only fans:** Thanks for giving this fic a shot! Hey, if animals can contribute to the growth of an entity, why not sentient robots? This fic is specifically set after the _Wreckers_ comic series from IDW's first Transformers comic universe. What you need to know: the [Noisemaze](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Noisemaze) is an artificial pocket universe created by a mad-scientist-type character named Tarantulas, who is a robot-tarantula, who died just before this fic takes place. Also, please consider checking out IDW's first Transformers comic run! Specifically _Wreckers_ and _More Than Meets The Eye (MTMTE)_ and its reboot-continuing name _Lost Light (LL)._ If the words “homonormative society” appeal to you, I think you'll really like it!
> 
> **To TF-only fans:** Thanks for giving this fic a shot! What you need to know: this fic takes place right after _Requiem of the Wreckers._ The Spiral is an entity from The Magnus Archives, a manifestation of the fear of madness, which gets stronger the more followers it has. Its major symbol is the door. You'll get it as it goes, trust me. Also, check out The Magnus Archives! It's a really cool, complex, and well done horror podcast!
> 
> **To fans of both:** yay! What a beautiful Venn diagram you are!! Thanks for giving this fic a shot. I hope you'll like it!

_Hello, Tarantulas..._

The being on the ground is beyond repair. His head has been shot through. His many legs are quivering. Sparks arc out of his brain, the only light in the cave that had once been his lair. He twitches. 

_I have waited a long time for this._

Fear emanates from him. Tarantulas knows he was supposed to die. He knows he was at peace. He knows that peace has been shattered. One spidery claw reaches out into the darkness. His vocalizer spits static. “Ostaros?”

_You don't recognize me?_

Tarantulas's eyes, the half of them remaining, brighten. He turns his head, looking around the cave. “Who is speaking?” Doubt darkens his mind. He wonders if he is hearing things. He is trying to run his frame evaluation/stability protocols, but they are not responding.

_I have pulled you from the brink of death. You have one last purpose, Tarantulas..._

“I am no- _hhkgh!-_ specimen!” Tarantulas struggles. He is trapped in his own spider legs. They're curled around his chest like a fist. Blood leaks from their joints, faintly glowing pink.

The Spiral laughs.

_I have tried to manifest many times to your species, half-spider. Your kind is wonderfully accomplished in the realm of movement. So many mazes and tunnels you have woven through spacetime! Every Titan-worshipping cult drew me closer. Did the cultists ever notice the beautiful colors I put in their Titans' space bridges? Every ground bridge Cybertronians activated, every portal that they have ever made was a tiny whisper for me, and I reached out to them. I gathered along the edges of these gateways, but I could not come through. I puzzled over this. My distortion appears where it cannot be, but it could not appear in those places here. It is a metaphysical revelation, therefore, that I must use what physically exists to establish myself! For millions of years I have waited, watching the chaos of your war unfold. Do you know how many creatures I could trap in a maze that spans the galaxy! How I yearned. But still I could not manifest. Until **you** called for me!_

Tarantulas's biolights illuminate down his body. They do not follow their natural curves, but rather form in geometric lines. With the shriek of metal, Tarantulas sits up. He touches his chest. Spark light shows through its gaping wound. Sick, burbling sounds issue from his broken throat.

_At first I was wary. You, whose body perfectly suits an avatar of The Web, could be yet another distraction sent by her. But you are not! You do not spin lies to control. You thrive on madness, Tarantulas. You introduced chaos to your fellow beings, masquerading it as science. You, you, at last, have managed to give me what I need. I have revived you just long enough for me to take my next step._

Tarantulas's processor races. The Spiral can see his thoughts. He thinks he can get out of this. He's cataloging his arsenal of inventions and weapons, scanning for something, anything, that can identify the voice he hears.

_I must give praise where it is due. **The Noisemaze,** Tarantulas. What a **beautiful** creation. An entire pocket universe exquisitely designed for madness. One which sends mechs screaming in agony, their sensors unable to comprehend the lengths and widths and depths of its colors. The data overwhelms them! Their frames are wracked with pain. The Noisemaze was a flare and a battery. It called me. It fueled me. It was so powerful! Even you, its creator, needed centuries to overcome its torturous delirium when you were cast into it._

Tarantulas pushes himself up to his knees. He teeters, uneven, half his legs missing. He fights the discombobulation of his body. He knows any creature beaconed by the Noisemaze will carry on his work. Work he had disavowed with his dying breath. “Identify yourself!” 

_You know me, Tarantulas. And I know you very well..._

Tarantulas is a small thing. He is tiny and weak and fragile and afraid, processor flashing with red warnings, systems failing, end-of-life protocols running. He transforms. He can still mass shift, and he does, flinching through the pain of it, trying in vain to increase his size so he can fight the invisible enemy all around him. He strikes out with his mandibles and his claws. He peers around with half his eyes. But there is nothing to see.

“Where am I! This is not the Noisemaze!”

_No, Tarantulas, it is not._

A swirl of green and yellow energy erupts in front of him. Tarantulas startles, transforming back to root mode. The biometallic bristles of his frame stand on end. “A ground bridge!”

_Yes. Or, at least, the illusion of one. I don't know how they work, Tarantulas. That is where you come in._

Tarantulas sways side to side. The Spiral can feel his mind move. He's taking the portal in, scanning it with his limited abilities. He approaches. The wispy energies at its edges blur reality. His claws sputter and spit like frying oil when he touches it. He cries out in pain.

Another swirl of energy opens behind him. This one is purple, sizzling with tiny blue lightning bolts. Its light falls across his eyes. He flinches away from it.

_You will have a special place in my heart after we're done here. Your body is unique, a mixture of organic and robotic. It will serve as my bridge. I've only ever been able to influence organics, you see. But their universes are numbered, and this universe has many mechanical inhabitants. Sentient metal! Beings whose technology is beyond me. I have tried so many times to materialize properly. I was thwarted. But you are special, Tarantulas. Not only did you create yourself to be a hybrid translation, you created the Noisemaze. You called me to you with the loudest voice I have heard since my inception._

“The Noisemaze... but it's disbanded. It's...” Tarantulas stumbles away from the ground bridges. He finds the consoles to his timemaze. He pushes buttons. A cracked screen lights up the cave. He whips around, searching for the being that speaks to him. He sees nothing.

_You used it to build your timemaze. Not quite as beautiful as the Noisemaze, but serviceable nonetheless._

“It still works! Hyeh hyeh...”

The Spiral laughs along with him. It feels hope blossom in his spark, the yearning to undo the pain he has caused. The Spiral waits. As Tarantulas strengthens, it does too. Its presence thickens in the cave air. Tarantulas's bristles crackle with static in response.

_Do you know how pleased I am to have found you? You will be the first ever sentient, metallic being serving as an avatar for one of the entities._

Tarantulas ignores it. He is making plans. The Spiral sees them all. They're very cute. Very thorough and well-made. Tarantulas will never enact any of them.

_None of the others have figured out how to worm their way into the mechanical world. So many of them rely on fears intimately bound to flesh. Not even The Slaughter could break through, though your war is infamous across the realms. But madness..._ The Spiral chuckles. _It's a beacon of sentience. Or is it the other way around?_

Tarantulas hits a few more keys. One of the timemaze portals lights up. “Hyeh hyeh hyeh!”

_And that's my cue._

The Spiral twists itself into the shape of metal and not-metal, of DNA and circuitry, of spiders and transformation cogs. Tarantulas's homeostasis, so carefully balanced between its two worlds, is a translating force. The crossover from organic life to metallic feels like ice hardening and bursting through rock. Crossing back from metallic to organic, the ice melts to worms, burrowing into wet spider flesh. The Spiral swings back and forth between the two, delighting in the dizzying motion. Cold, warm. Hard, soft. Programs, proteins.

“ _Aaagghhh!”_

_What a bright mind you have! Do fight me, it's ever so fun._

“I don't want this! I made my peace!” Tarantulas pushes back with all his might- he is a worthy opponent. He sees immortality. He does not want it. The Spiral tightens down, drilling into his mind, fractaling along his processor. The Spiral hollows Tarantulas out like a stairway, like a helix, like a hurricane. It sets its teeth around its Cybertronian prize: the spark chamber. It bites down into a flash of brilliant light and energy. Tarantulas screams in agony. The Spiral rejoices in the light. The Spiral settles into his body. That which is Tarantulas, dies.

The Spiral stands proudly, surveying its tiny kingdom. Its physical form is heavy, but the burden is welcome. It moves toward the timemaze portal. The last remnants of Tarantulas's mind dissolve into The Spiral.

_Ah, there you are. Do you hear how our voice has changed? Now we are one. Your kind is rather partial to that idea, is it not?_ In a sing-songy voice, The Spiral says, _'til all are one, 'til all are one._

The Spiral touches the timemaze portal. The metal flows over its broken limb. The Spiral's form stretches and grows. It breaks the portal into pieces and wears them like diamonds embedded in a gown. Ground bridges sprout along its edges. It is fractal now, spitting data and hair. It spins. Glass and flesh braid together through it, twining in all directions. It sparkles with otherworldly mirrors. It feels beautiful! But not quite complete. The Spiral concentrates. It takes cues from its new spider heritage. With an inside-out, right-side-in feeling unlike _any_ it has ever felt, The Spiral transforms.

_Ha ha ha!_

It revels in this second form. Not as beautiful as the first, but more powerful. Tall, bipedal, broad-shouldered. It has a waist now, crossed with biolights that blink along to its mood. Curling, jointed legs sprout from its back, and its front, and its sides, and none of those places, and all of those places. Each leg is tipped with a weapon. It's never had weapons before. It aims at the opposite side of the cave. It fires.

Lasers blast the wall apart. Rocks explode and rain down. They settle in impossible geometry. Dust springs up, clouding the air in straight lines.

The Spiral laughs. What a gift! How hilarious. It will enjoy these.

It sets its metal-tipped claws onto the console. The Spiral absorbs an enormous amount of data. It sees the seething underbelly of the Cybertronians' portal systems. It can rouse its ground bridges now. The timemaze's network is a tree, each branch terminating with a crooked fruit doorway. The entire universe opens up to it.

Usually, The Spiral is content to flow with the tides of fear. But this time it has a semblance of a plan. It attributes that to its Tarantulas-flavored parts. The Spiral desires another bio-enfused Cybertronian to feast on. More translations, more minds, _more doorways._

The image of a Cybertronian comes to it. She is covered in stars and metal plating. But she has a secret The Spiral can see. A delightful secret. She is full of fangs and teeth. She is organic wraith and metallic robot twisted together, mind constantly teetering between the two worlds, fearful of going too far into either. Her spark is bright.

The Spiral concentrates. It transforms back to its first form. It glitters in the dust. The Spiral activates its new portals. With a flash, it is across the galaxy.

It appears beside a blue and silver Cybertronian. She gasps and draws her weapon. How cute. 

The Spiral transforms. The Cybertronian fires. The laser beam does not harm the writhing mass of The Spiral. It reaches out its legs to her, and its arms, and its doors, and its legs, and its doors, and its arms. Her processor can comprehend one eighth of them. She shrinks back, the plating of her face separating, teeth and black tendrils extending from the gaps.

_Hello, Stardrive..._

**Author's Note:**

> I think there's a lot of interesting potential for Entities-Transformers. Soundwave would definitely summon The Beholding XD


End file.
